


Our Evenings are Farewells

by St_Salieri



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-16
Updated: 2006-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:43:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_Salieri/pseuds/St_Salieri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reality of growing old together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Evenings are Farewells

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://skybound2.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://skybound2.livejournal.com/)**skybound2**. The request was for a _general "what-happens-after?" scenario. Wherein we get to see how Spike and Buffy deal with the difficulties of actually being in a relationship._ This takes place approximately twenty years after _Chosen_. Buffy and Spike reunited after _Not Fade Away_ and have been living together as a couple.

 

_Our evenings are farewells_   
_Our parties are testaments_   
_So that the secret stream of suffering_   
_May warm the cold of life._

\- Boris Pasternak

 

The tradition began years ago, only a few months after the destruction of Sunnydale. Once a year, the remaining Scoobies would gather for a brief visit, a combination family reunion and memorial service. It had started unofficially, just Buffy and Willow and a trip to London on Council business. As Spike later heard the story, the two of them had spent an evening camped out in the main library reminiscing on old times. Giles had walked into the middle of an argument about which version of the high school was the creepiest, and after staring at them for a moment in befuddlement, he'd shared an amused smile and quietly produced a bottle of scotch from somewhere. Buffy later swore that she'd never taken a single drink, and Spike smiled indulgently and agreed with her.

"I miss Amanda," Willow had said suddenly. "I really liked her." She'd winced at Buffy's raised eyebrow and clarified. "Not _liked her_ liked her. There was just something about her that reminded me of...well, kind of a weird combination of Dawn and me. I wish I'd gotten to know her better." Raising her glass, she'd nodded firmly. "To Amanda."

Giles had raised his glass with a salute of his own. "To Anya," he'd said quietly.

Buffy hadn't planned on saying anything -- not then, not yet, not when everything still hurt so badly -- but Giles was giving her an expectant look. So she'd given a tight smile and held up her own glass, praying her voice wouldn't wobble. "Spike."

"To absent friends," Giles had concluded quietly, and that was that.

Every year after that they managed to meet up, by plan or by chance. The makeup of the group varied from year to year -- always Buffy and Willow, usually Dawn and Giles, Xander once every few years, as well as the occasional girlfriend or boyfriend (usually belonging to Willow or Dawn, respectively). And then there was the time when Xander showed up unexpectedly after an absence of several years. He'd accepted Willow's slaps in good nature, delivering apologetic hugs all around, before shyly introducing his wife. Ana was a Slayer from Algeria, a tiny little thing with a brilliant smile, and she seemed to be completely in awe of Buffy. By the time that visit was over, Buffy and Willow had made sure that Xander was properly chastened for keeping the news from them.

And of course, every year after the first one, Spike was there. Buffy wouldn't go without him.

He stayed on the fringes, in the shadows, never as comfortable as Buffy was in the center of the group, even though he was fully accepted as one of them. The advantage to being on the edge was that it allowed him to watch, and he certainly did. He watched Dawn grow from gawky teen to lovely woman. He watched as Giles's hair turned grey and new lines appeared around his eyes. And above all else, he watched Buffy, his golden girl, and the way she glowed when she was surrounded by her friends and family.

And the more he watched the humans around him, the more Spike was reminded that he'd never fully be one of them, not really. They were tied to the rhythms of the world, and they waxed and waned along with it. It was something deeper and more subtle than the obvious effects of aging. He could feel the advance of time in a way he'd never before experienced, and it unnerved him. He was a stone in a stream, watching the water swirl and dance around him, carrying away the brightly colored leaves and flowers that had fallen upon it. All of these humans, these frail, changeable little creatures, were being swept out of his hand before he could close his fingers around them. He had always known that the Slayer danced with death; he'd never truly realized how all of humanity participated in the same dance.

This year the reunion took place at Buffy and Spike's place in London. Their small flat was full to overflowing. Dawn had brought along her boyfriend and their two little girls, who were busy chasing Xander's small son around the living room. Spike winced at the high-pitched shriek that cut through the buzz of conversation, reaching down to catch up one of the girls before she could crash into his leg. She laughed and wriggled like an eel, and Spike nearly dropped her before he could set her down safely and resume his slouch against the door frame. Dawn appeared next to him and gave him a smile of gratitude.

"Thanks," she said wryly. "You should see them when they've got some sugar in their systems." She sighed and leaned against the opposite door frame, watching her daughters careen around the room. "You know, Mom always said that having two daughters was easier than one, because we could play together and keep each other out of her hair."

"Oh yeah?" Spike grinned. "And how's that working out for you?"

"She totally lied," Dawn said flatly, a smile curving the corner of her lips. She watched fondly as Buffy grabbed the younger girl in a hug. "It's so nice to have everyone together like this."

"It is," Spike said absently, watching Buffy. She looked like a madonna, her cheek pressed to the fine hair of the child she held, and Spike's heart clenched from the sheer beauty of it.

Dawn shook her head and grinned at him. "You've completely been domesticated. I think it's so cute."

"Hey!" Spike objected. "Still a vampire, thank you."

"Yeah, but...look at you, doing the whole couple thing, living in an actual apartment. It's nice to see. You guys are good together."

"Yeah," Spike said in satisfaction. "We are."

Of course, he'd never tell Dawn that his and Buffy's personal version of domesticity involved the occasional knock-down drag-out fight, as well as plenty of time apart. They knew each other well enough to sense when the other person needed a couple of days on their own, and they gave each other the space they needed. And as the years passed, it turned out that they didn't need much time apart after all. They fought hard and loved harder, and they were happy. They weren't the typical example of a happy couple, but Dawn was right. They were very good together.

"Could I have everyone's attention, please?" Giles was standing up and reaching for his coat, and Dawn rushed to quiet the kids as best she could. "As you all know," he continued, "we're missing a member of our company this year." Spike watched Buffy smile softly and drop her head in respect. Giles cleared his throat. "Andrew left a note among his papers asking me to bring this to our next gathering in case he ever...well." Reaching into his coat pocket, drew out a small box and tossed it onto the table. The room exploded in laughter before Spike was able see what it was.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Willow groaned, and Dawn giggled. Xander snatched the box up excitedly.

"Is this the original version? Oh, it _is_. Bless that little nerd's heart." Waving the box, he turned to Ana. "Grab the baby, hon. He's about to be exposed to one of the greatest cultural icons of the twentieth century."

" _Star Wars_?" Ana asked skeptically, and Dawn and Willow broke into laughter again.

"I don't know," Dawn said, calming slightly. "Is this really something the kids should see? There's light-sabering and stuff."

"Our kids?" Xander scoffed. "They're exposed to more real violence before breakfast. Pop it in."

Spike noticed that Buffy was trying to catch his eye, and he raised his eyebrows at her. She gestured slightly towards the door, and he followed her outside and away from the good-natured bickering. Buffy let out a long breath as soon as the door closed, and Spike rubbed her shoulders soothingly.

"Had about enough family time then?" he asked softly.

Buffy shrugged, her shoulders twitching away from his hands. "Just itchy, you know? I think I need to kill something. And is that a sick response to hanging out with my friends or what?"

Spike grinned. "Know just what you mean. Want some company?"

Buffy shot him a sultry look over her shoulder, than hauled his head down for a quick kiss. "Only if you can catch me," she breathed, then swept his legs out from under him and ran down the stairs laughing. Spike cursed and struggled to his feet, ducking back inside their flat.

"Patrol," he panted. "Back later." He barely caught Dawn's knowing grin before he was pounding down the stairs and into the night.

He followed Buffy's scent down several streets, across a park, and onto the roof of a row of townhouses. He could see her in the near distance, leaping from building to building in graceful bounds. She turned and looked back at him, her hair blowing in the breeze, and he grinned and followed her.

He chased her for several miles of rooftops and alleyways, staying back just far enough to keep her in eyesight. It was incredibly intoxicating. Buffy was as sure-footed as ever, and if her stride had slowed a bit over the last twenty years? Well, she'd never hear about it from him. The night air flowed over him in a cold wash, like he was standing still and the world was rushing past him at the speed of sound. He was caught by the hum of the blood in Buffy's veins and the pounding of her heart, just ahead of him and just out of his grasp, and he ran even faster.

They were about ten miles away from their flat when she let him catch her on the roof of an empty office building. She gave a shriek as he pounced and rolled her over, and then they were kissing -- little nipping kisses interrupted by their laughter and Buffy's panting, and then long, deep, messy kisses that made Spike groan. Buffy moaned against his lips, and the buzzing vibrated all the way down his spine and into his shoes. He rolled onto his back and let her straddle him. She bent double to kiss him again, and he wound his fingers in her hair and arched up against her.

The fact that they were hidden from sight by the parapet at the edge of the roof meant that Spike didn't have much trouble in coaxing the pants down Buffy's hips and off her body. She wriggled against his erection, grunting softly and forcing his hands beneath her shirt and under the edge of her bra. He pinched and rolled her nipples while she panted and struggled with his belt, finally managing to yank his pants down just enough to free him. Pushing her panties to the side, she dipped down and took him inside her, groaning heavily.

Spike had left his coat behind when he'd left the flat, and he could feel the rough rooftop scratching at the skin of his ass. He didn't care in the slightest. Buffy rocked on him gently, leaning down to breath into his mouth. The skin of her stomach was goose-pimpled from the chill of the night, and it twitched as he ran his fingers over it.

"Mmm," Spike purred. "I thought we were going to kill something."

"Nah," Buffy sighed. "This is much, much better." And then she was sucking his lower lip into her mouth, and he abandoned her breasts to clasp her head between his hands.

She was soft, so soft and wet, the skin of her inner thighs smooth as she rubbed against him. From close up he could see the fine lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, and he brushed his lips over them before taking her mouth in another kiss. She squirmed on top of him, and he reached down to hold her waist and trail his thumbs over the crease of her inner thigh. Buffy let her own hand drop down, and Spike watched greedily as she played with her clit. Her rocking motion became stronger, more regular, and he took over rubbing her while she reached under her shirt and cupped her own breasts, squeezing the nipples. When she came her entire body tightened -- her face, her fingers, her thighs around him -- before she relaxed and bent down to kiss him again. When she twined her fingers with his, he came inside her with a low groan.

"Love you lots," she whispered against his neck, and he smiled.

"Love you more," he murmured. "You're so beautiful."

She smiled wryly, stretching out on top of him and kissing his neck while he wrapped his arms around her. "Thanks," she said softly. "I just needed to get out of there for a little while." He nodded, and she groaned softly while she shifted position. "Ow, my knees. I'm really getting too old for this." The side of her mouth twisted in a small smile. "I know you've been around this world a lot longer than me, but...I feel older, you know? Especially hanging around all those little kids. I love them, but they're draining. I don't know how Dawn does it."

Spike closed his eyes, tightening his grip on Buffy and listening to the hum of traffic below. "Do you ever wish...?" he asked carefully.

Buffy knew exactly what he was asking. "No," she said, then, "No," again, more firmly. "I'm not going to say that I never thought about...but that's not the way my life went, and I wouldn't change anything for the world." She yawned and settled back against him. "It's just hard, sometimes, being around everyone. There's a part of me that will never be completely part of that world." She looked up at Spike and smiled slightly, dropping a kiss on the tip of his nose. "You're not part of that world either."

"We're two of a kind, pet, you and I," he said gently. "It's why we work so well."

"Hmm," she hummed, dropping her head back to rest against his chest. "We do. We fit."

And so they did, better than they ever had. Even so, he knew it wouldn't last forever. As Spike ran his fingers up Buffy's back, he could almost feel her slipping from him, carried away like a fallen leaf on the stream and leaving him behind. His soul howled for her, that damned soul that seemed to do nothing more than remind of everything he'd lost. He would lose her one day, and his heart would break. But until that day came, he would cling to her as tightly as he could. It was the only thing he could do.

And so Spike lay on the cold and dirty rooftop, wrapped his arms around Buffy as tightly as he dared, and held on.

 

 


End file.
